


Tequila

by cherryglazerr



Series: Haikyuu!! Night Club AU Series [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bathroom Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Hair-pulling, Hurt No Comfort, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption, Rave, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Sex, Smut, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryglazerr/pseuds/cherryglazerr
Summary: And when you pull away, hastily yanking his shirt over his head, Terushima catches a glimpse of your eyes. They’re blown wide, and bursting with a plethora of emotions that he attempts to place.Hunger. Desperation. Ache. Need. Lust.But not love.
Relationships: Terushima Yuuji/Reader
Series: Haikyuu!! Night Club AU Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831819
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	Tequila

Terushima Yuuji liked thrill. 

He refused to take anything too seriously, adopting an ideology that consisted of chasing after whatever granted him that adrenaline-induced rush of pleasure - perhaps to the point where it was almost hedonism. And when reprimanded for his carefree attitude, he’d simply laugh and clap the person on the back, proclaiming something along the lines of how he wanted to “live, not survive”. 

It was perhaps also part of the reason why he found himself coming back again. 

It’s loud. Terushima allows himself to revel in the feeling of the thumping bass, the powerful vibrations reverberating through his body and intermingling with the prickling of the tequila-induced buzz. He succumbs to the psychotropic waves clouding his mind, drifting through his head in wispy tendrils that teeter on the edge of feeling almost tangible. 

(He doesn’t remember much about what he took to even reach his current state - at least, nothing beyond the fact that the boy who offered him the capsule was cute and had really soft lips. 

Then again, not like he really gives a flying fuck about much else anyway.)

His eyes flutter open, and he’s greeted with a blurry kaleidoscope of flashing fluorescent green and purple. It’s captivating, but his eyelids feel far too heavy, so he allows them to fall shut again. The movements of his body become second nature - he gives into the techno beat, morphing his form into becoming one with the moving sea of bodies. 

Yes, Terushima Yuuji liked thrill. Still, he was only human. And like every other human, he was a creature of habit - one that felt uncomfortable with change, and sought after the familiarity of things. While the loud atmosphere and substance use that came with rave culture may not have been the most conventional sources of comfort, it was what Terushima always found himself reverting back to. 

He parts his eyes again. This time, he sees you. 

Terushima watches you, angling himself so he can look past the crowd in between and catch a better glimpse of your face, dewy and illuminated by the black light. You’re not there alone - there’s a man behind you, his lips attached to your neck, and a woman in front, gripping your hands to her hips.

And yet, your eyes are fixated on him. 

Time seems to be moving just the slightest bit slower now. Terushima watches as the flashing hues of purple, pink and green slowly fade away, blacking out the mass of dancing bodies. 

Suddenly, his world is an abyss, and all he can see is _you_. 

_You_ , seductively swaying your hips, meandering your form in slow, fluid movements that remind him of a charmed snake. _You_ , as you return his gaze with equal intensity, a mischievous glint dancing around your eyes and inviting him _closer, closer, closer_ -

He’s abruptly pulled out of his trance when you blink, breaking the connection, before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. 

Time rushes at a dizzying pace now as he pushes through the tight gaps of the packed bodies before him, bronze eyes flicking back and forth as they scour for your familiar form. Terushima remembers the fateful night when he had first caught your eye. He knew then - as he spent the remainder of it in a dark corner, hoisting you up against a wall and fucking you into oblivion - that he was hooked. 

Every time after that was always like this - you walking away, and him chasing after you. 

Still, Terushima finds that he doesn’t quite mind the chase. He doesn’t mind working himself ragged, running with all his being. Not when it’s the sweetness of your lips and the warmth of your arms waiting for him at the finish line. 

So yes, Terushima Yuuji sought after thrill. 

Terushima Yuuji sought after comfort. 

Terushima Yuuji sought after you. 

Because in you, he found a blazing fire that sent adrenaline coursing through his veins, and in you, he found a sense of familiarity that embraced his heart in a comforting warmth.

* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚

He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when he finally finds you in the bathroom at the end of the club hallway. You’re leaning against the sink counter, metal file in hand as you casually swipe it across the tips of your nails. Nudging himself into the dim space, he reaches for the latch, only to find it broken. 

“Want me to find a way to keep this door locked?”

“Leave it,” you reply coolly, “It’s far from the main hall anyway. And if someone does decide to come in, ‘least they’ll get to watch a nice show, hmm?”

Grinning, he pulls the door closed before turning back around and advancing closer to your form. Your head is still tilted away from him, the sharp chafing of the file sounding through the bathroom as you speak. 

“You kept me waiting, Terushima.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, angel,” Terushima murmurs, hands gripping the counter on either side of where you’re standing, “I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” His lips are just barely ghosting over yours, eyes fluttering shut as he inches forward to close the distance between you two.

Then, he feels it. 

Cold metal pressed up against the underside of his chin. It’s sharper than he expects - the pointed end threatens to pierce through his skin, warning him from moving any closer. 

“Not so fast, baby.”

You’re donning a slight smile, with your arm poised up as you lightly press the nail file against his throat, edging him away from your face. “Careful there, sweetheart,” a slow grin forms on his face as he speaks, “You could _really_ hurt me with that.” 

“I could.”

Terushima feels the file drop down ever so slightly. Ah. So that’s what you wanted. 

His grin grows as he steadies himself by gripping the counter before slowly crouching his body down. You’ve got your eyes locked with his in a piercing gaze, your hand slowly moving downward. And yet, the file remains dangerously close to his throat, lightly grazing his skin as he continues his descent. 

He’s kneeling before you now. 

It’s instinctual - the movement of his hands as he brushes them up the outsides of your legs. Rough palms graze the expanse of your skin, inching higher and higher as Terushima reacquaints himself with your softness, with the familiarity of the texture. He’s almost restless by the time he reaches the hem of your skirt, hastily bunching it up over your hips.

But once again, just as he’s inching himself forward, bringing his face closer to the alluring scent of your heat, he’s stopped. Groaning, he pulls back, golden eyes flitting up at you in impatience. “ _C’mon_ , baby, lemme taste you.” 

Your hand doesn’t budge. 

“... _please_? Just wanna take care of you.” 

And you finally, _finally_ pull away, leaving him free to nudge his face up between your thighs. It’s been a whole _week_ , and he would’ve loved to savour the moment, to take his sweet time reveling in the feel of your skin. But he _can’t_ ; not with how he’s overloaded with the scent of _sin_ , of your arousal dampening the fabric of your panties. 

Terushima wastes no time looping his fingers into the bands of your underwear before yanking them off, absentmindedly tossing them aside in a forgotten corner. Parting your legs wider, he moves forward, tilting his head up until his lips are directly under your dripping folds.

His ears perk up at the sound of your sharp intake of breath as you await his next move in eager trepidation. It’s satisfying, having you on the waiting end for a change. He can’t help the smug smile on his face as he pokes his tongue out, just barely ghosting it along your labia. 

Then, in one fell sweep, he swipes it along the length of your inner folds, from your leaking slit, all the way up to your throbbing clit. And, _oh_ , it’s so, so _gratifying_ , hearing the soft whines you let out as he trails the slick muscle across every inch of your hot, needy cunt. 

One of your hands has found purchase in his hair, fingers lightly carding through the blond strands. He can vaguely make out murmurs of how it feels ‘ _so good!_ ’, and how you want ‘ _more, more, more!_ ’ Oh, he hasn’t even gotten to the _best_ part yet. He would give you more, alright. 

He pulls away briefly, smirking to himself at your petulant whine upon the loss of contact. Terushima taps the hand currently nestled in his hair. “Hold on tight, yeah, babe?” Your brows furrow in confusion, lips parting to question what he intended on doing-

Your words fall flat on the tiled floor, replaced instead, by a sharp whimper. 

Snickering, Terushima flattens out his tongue and repeats the motion, rolling the cold metal ball right against the swollen head of your clit. A sudden clattering on his left interrupts his rhythm, forcing his eyes to the source of said disturbance. His peripheral view catches sight of it - the nail file, fallen free from your shaky hands. 

A rough tug on his scalp pulls his attention back to you, refocusing his efforts on bringing you closer and closer to the edge. His large palms are spayed flat against the outside of your quivering thighs, fingers indenting the thick of your flesh as he presses you up against the edge of the counter.

“Wait, T-Terushima, I- I _can’t_ keep- _fuck_ -”

He braces himself just in time as your legs give way, bringing your weak form down entirely on his broad shoulders. Hearing you whimper at the lack of support, he hushes you, toned arms snaking underneath the back of your thighs to settle you on top of him. 

“Easy, sweetheart. I gotcha.” 

Your breath stutters in surprise when he gets himself back up, with you still perched on his shoulders and forearms, before planting you on top of the counter. Pressing his hands against the back of your knees, he pushes them up until your thighs are pulled as close to your chest as they can go. 

It’s likely uncomfortable for you - having your body pressed up in half, your neck awkwardly angled so you can rest your head against the mirror behind you. And yet, you tuck your arms under the back of your knees to hold your legs in place, teary-eyed and eager as you wait for him to continue his assault on your pussy. 

The shift in power is perfectly evident in how _sweetly_ you _whine_ , and _whimper_ , and _beg_ for him when he moves his face back to your warm cunt, lapping his tongue in heavy strokes. He takes full advantage of the cool piercing adorning the slick muscle, catching it beneath the sensitive hood of your little nub. 

It certainly becomes crystal clear when you hit your climax, moaning out a shrill string of profanities that graduate to whiny pleas of his name when he doesn’t stop. He can’t help chuckling, even with his lips glued to your overstimulated clit, upon hearing your weak cries of how it was _‘t-too much!_ ’, and could he ‘ _please, p-please, stop, please!’_

And as he watches the tears stream down your cheeks as you squirm in his hold, bears witness to your descent into a beautiful, frenzied depravity, Terushima knows it’s clear. 

_You’re no longer the one in charge._

You’re all limp and boneless in his arms once he eases you back upright, looping your arms around his neck in a weak hold as you press yourself up against his hard chest for support. And you’re so soft, so compliant - it’d be no effort to rile you up, to taunt you and take advantage of your current vulnerability. 

But no, he couldn’t. 

(Terushima liked to tell himself that the whole sadistic dom thing just wasn’t his style. At the very least, it provided some semblance of an excuse to avoid confronting the fact that he just liked being sweet on you. 

And only _you_.)

Terushima gathers you in his arms with an uncharacteristic tenderness, cupping your cheek to tilt your face up towards him. “Fuck, I missed you, angel. I’m gonna take care of you now, ‘kay?”

He chuckles at the dazed expression worn on your features, lightly brushing his thumb across your trembling lower lip. And then, he connects them with his own. 

He allows himself to get wrapped up in your arms, to inhale the sweetness of your perfume, to tangle his tongue with yours. Terushima allows himself to be enveloped in you. And as he pulls you infinitely closer into his hold, presses his body against every inch of your softness, he thinks it’s almost intimate. 

_Almost_. 

Because as you muster up more energy, as you recover from the exhaustion of your previous orgasms, you reciprocate his kisses with hard vigour. Your hands, previously looped tight around his neck, now dig almost painfully hard into the fabric covering his back, tugging the cloth so tight that he can hear the sound of ripping threads. The soft saccharine of your touch dissolves, giving way to bitter, bitter desire. 

And when you pull away, hastily yanking his shirt over his head, Terushima catches a glimpse of your eyes. They’re blown wide, and bursting with a plethora of emotions that he attempts to place.

_Hunger. Desperation. Ache. Need. Lust._

But not _love_. 

The intimacy is practically non-existent when you bend forward, urging him to unzip his pants and fuck you over the counter. He can’t see your face as clearly, he can’t kiss your lips, he can’t hold you like he wants to-

But he does it anyway, gripping your hips in a bruising hold and driving forward into your hot cunt in one hard thrust. Because he’ll take it; he’ll take any scrap he can get, just so long as he can spend another moment pressed up against you. 

Terushima snakes his fingers down your front, gathering the slickness smeared across your clit. Holding them up in front of you, he grips your head back by your hair, forcing your face up. 

“Look at how wet you are, baby,” he separates his fingers in a spread V, the fluid strings of your arousal glistening under the light. “Who got you like this, hmm? Who’s got you dripping like a little _slut_?” the taunts flow out in hisses, partly because of how hard you’re clamping down on his dick, mostly because of the red, hot frustration coursing through his veins. “Was it that man you were prancing around with back there? Or maybe, it was-”

“No, _nooo_ ,” you’re practically gurgling on your words from the recklessness of his movements, “ _It’s y-you, it’s you, i-it’s you_ , Teru-”

A dark laugh bubbles past his lips as he rolls his lips in another punishing thrust, “None of that, baby. It’s _Yuuji_.” 

“I-It’s because of _you_ , Y-Yuuji! All, ah- all because of- of _you_..”

“That’s right. All because of me. Because you’re, uh- you’re _mine_ , aren’t you?” he makes sure to punctuate every next word with a particularly hard thrust, “All. Fucking. _M-Mine_.” 

_(His. His. His.)_

And you’re slobbering over your words, spewing out some sort of garbled nonsense that can hardly even be considered speech. But it’s okay. It doesn’t matter now, not when you’re both so close to your highs. His fingers return down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles in tandem with the feverish jerks of his hips. 

Terushima yanks your head back up again, lips pressed hard against your neck as he mouths kisses and nips along your skin. Yellow eyes glisten as they burn into your expression in the mirror, reserving it into his permanent memory. The dark pupils follow every contortion of your features, every scrunch of the skin around your tightly shut eyes, every tremble of your lips as they fall open to paint the silent bathroom vibrant with your frenetic moans. 

Terushima decides, then, that this is how you look prettiest. Even slathered in sweat, and even under the harsh, white bathroom light - you’re beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re held in his arms, you’re beautiful when you’re falling apart under his touch, you’re beautiful when you’re stuffed full of his cock. 

You’re beautiful when he can, even if just for a second, pretend you’re his. 

* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚

He’s hunched over, arms pulled around himself as he attempts to placate his staggering breaths. You’re in a similar condition, gripping the edge of the counter in a tight hold to stabilize yourself. 

“Fuck, Terushima-” he looks up at your sharp tone, willing away the quiet hurt that resurfaces upon hearing you revert back to his family name, “You came _inside_! I’m gonna have to go clean up, and-” 

It’s not long before he’s back on his knees again, having coaxed you into letting him ‘clean’ you up himself. 

Terushima resigns himself to lazier strokes this time, squirming his tongue past your slit and curling it along your quivering inner walls. He licks out every bit of you, angling his head closer so he can scoop out every drop of your essence mixed with his cum. 

He can feel the light tremors of your movements as you sigh, allowing your head to loll back as your fingers thread across his scalp. There’s no frenzied jerking, no desperate jutting of your hips into his face. Instead, it’s replaced by a full bodied tremble that crawls down every inch of your skin as you near your high. 

But, wait, _wait_ -

What is he-

You tilt your head back down to eye him in curiosity. The movements of his slick muscle - previously lazy and languid, with no particular direction - now seem almost… methodical. _What_ is he doing with his tongue?

And then, as you concentrate hard on figuring it out, realization dawns on you. Is he- Oh, _god,_ _is he-_

“Are you-” your eyes fall wide in disbelief, “ _Are you spelling out your name_?”

The playful look in his eyes is answer enough. But before you can press any further, right when he gets to the very last letter, you’re coming undone, head instinctively falling back as you release a final whimper of his name. 

* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚

“So, again next week?”

You’re in front of the mirror, hands busy redoing your smeared makeup and smoothening your mussed hair. You freeze at his words, temporarily shifting your focus away from your dishevelled appearance to look back at where he’s sitting, leaned up against the wall.

“Uh, I- I don’t think so, Terushima.” The look you send him is laced with guilt and discomfort. _“Read between the lines,”_ it practically pleads with him, _“and don’t make me have to spell it out for you.”_

Terushima picks up on your discomfort, on your hesitance, on the finality of your words. He isn’t stupid. What he is though, is petty. 

“Oh?” he asks in mock ignorance, “The week after, then?” 

“Terushima…” your voice trails off as you bite your lip, eyes flitting back and forth between him and the floor. He clenches his palms into fists as he speaks. 

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” 

You flinch at the venom in his tone, nervously eyeing his fuming state. “Yeah, um, I’m seeing someone.” You straighten yourself out, voice relatively unwavering as you attempt to remain calm. “I think it might be serious this time. And they- they want to become exclusive now. So, uh- we can’t… We need to stop, Terushima.”

He’s completely sobered up. There’s no alcohol, no substance clouding his mind. He registers every word, every sentence falling from your lips with a painful consciousness. 

It gives rise to red, hot anger, as he shoots you an accusatory glare. “So you were using me then? You knew, you _knew_ how I- how I _felt_ and you-”

“H-Hey, that’s not fair-” 

“ _You were using me as your fucking side piece!_ ” Terushima almost regrets the harshness of his words when he sees the tinge of hurt flash across your face, but the frustration and jealousy overtake his guilt. “You knew, you knew, _you fucking knew!”_

(Knew that all he had ever wanted was for you to be his. 

He leaves the words unspoken. He can’t bring himself to say it out loud, can’t breathe tangibility into the thought, because god fucking damn, another ounce of vulnerability would kill him.)

“Okay, okay, Terushima, I-” you edge closer to the door, speaking quietly in an attempt to placate him, “I’m going to leave now.” 

“ _No_! Wait-” He sits up from the floor, eyes welling up in tears and frustration as he watches you go still at the doorway. Terushima attempts to finish his sentence, to put out his thoughts, his one final request. But, he can’t- _fuck_ , he _can’t_ \- He pushes himself, forcing the words out from within him, but they remain painfully lodged in his throat, and- and _fuck_ , he’s _choking_ , _and_ -

“Terushima?” 

Your voice pulls him out of his stupor. They come out hoarse and heavy, but Terushima manages to string the words together, “J-Just say it! That you’re _mine_ … Just o-once, please, _please_ …” 

_(His. His. His.)_

Your voice comes out in barely a whisper, “Terushima, you know I-”

“Lie to me then! Jus- just _please_ …” 

And you look at him, sitting down on the dirty tiles, tears trailing down his cheeks. That look unsettles him. It’s not harsh enough to be disgust, no, your expression bears no malice. And yet, it’s not invested enough to be concern. 

Pity. It’s pity. 

“I’m sorry, Terushima, but doing that would be beyond cruel.” 

The sobs rain heavy and free once he hears the door click shut. It’s not long before the fatigue and exhaustion weigh down on him, and soon, even sitting up takes too much effort. Terushima lowers himself down until he can feel the cool tile against his cheek. The bathroom floor is disgusting, caked with filth and grime. It smells. He’s too tired to care. 

And then, just as he’s about to close his eyes, to allow himself some reprieve in the abyss of sleep, his peripheral catches it.

Your nail file, laying abandoned a few inches away from him. 

He’s not sure why, but it makes him cry harder.


End file.
